The wedding day
by Inexcess
Summary: Leah's bitchy about a wedding where she doesn't want to be the Maid of Honor. Oneshot


Emily glowed. Her hair was piled up in a tight bun with strands cascading down her back. The maid of honor was seized with a desire to pull these cascading strands, or maybe cut them all off.

Said maid of honor was Leah Clearwater, and she was not happy. (This was a harsh contrast on her bouncy cousin and backstabber 'sister', Emily.) She'd been conned into the position with overflowing tears and Sam's depressed face, and now she couldn't back out even if she wanted to.

"Leah!" squealed Emily, bouncing back into the room. "You almost ready?"

"Oh!" Leah said brightly, from where she was fixing her hair to look even better then Emily's. (If she was going to be a maid of honor, there was no way in hell she wasn't gonna have every person's eyes on her.) "You mean ready to see my ex-fiance marry my ex-cousin and sister? You mean ready to have my heart ripped apart because both of you traitorous bitches don't care about anything but you being happy?" She got the satisfaction of watching Emily's face freeze in nervousness. Her sweet little cousin was too stupid to know how to deal with these harsh words. "Nope. Not ready yet." She flashed Emily a big grin. Her teeth glinted wolfishly.

"Um," Emily stuttered. "Well…it's um, in about thirty minutes."

"What, the ceremony of joy and delight? Where you reveal that your kid isn't going to be a bastard child after all because you married the father?"

"What? I'm not pregnant. We haven't even had sex!" Emily's face went red.

Time to go in for the kill. "Well, I'd be careful. Stark white isn't actually your color." Leah eyed her cousin's wedding dress. "Makes you look pale. Except for, you know, the part of your face that isn't any color but purple and red."

Emily flushed at the viciousness of Leah's words, and her hand automatically flew to her scars. "I--" she looked a lot less radiant. Good. It would be interesting to see if Emily tried to change in her dress with only thirty minutes left. "I have to go get my makeup ready."

"That won't take long," shrugged Leah, making her final assault. "They only need to do half of your face. The other half is naturally fucked up!"

Emily fled.

Five seconds later, in came the groom. He was not skinny as a broom, as the old saying goes, but in fact red in the face and packing on a few pounds. "You and your bride match faces," remarked Leah. "Except you need a few nasty scar marks, right here." She pointed to a vague position.

Sam puffed up and snarled, "What did you do to Em? She's crying!"

Leah rolled her eyes. "Well, good. At least that'll make her eyes sparkle. She's going to need every bit of help she can get, the little bitch."

Sam swelled further. "Every bit of help with what?"

"Looking pretty." Leah tossed her now-waist length hair that spiraled and sparkled in the light. "After all, it's her wedding day. Who wouldn't want to look radiant, gorgeous, and picturesque?"

"This isn't about her," said Sam. "Don't bring her into it."

"It's been about her since you IMPRINTED on her!" snarled back the irate Maid of Honor, and she took a step towards the soon-to-be-wed alpha. "It's been about her since you stole her common sense and sucked her into your vortex of sweet nothings!"

"I can't help it!" whined Sam, which seemed to be a common theme around him. (He couldn't help anything. He couldn't help imprinting, or hurting her, and he couldn't help his feelings. Actually, it seemed to Leah that Sam liked to be absolved of all blame.) "I love her."

Leah's eyebrows raised and she turned back to her mirror, whisking mascara through her feathery eyelashes. "You love her more than the sun and the stars, right?" she asked sarcastically. "Your love for her will last throughout the decades and the lights of a thousand moons."

Sam looked lost. "What?"

"That's what you told me. That's how much you loved me." She paused, looked speculative. "Or is your love for her going to last for a thousand and one moons?"

"Please, just don't," Sam murmured. "Just make this day happy. For me?"

"I stopped doing things for you the day you made out with my cousin on the beach," reminded Leah. "In fact, I intend on making this day as horrible as I can. Emily will be in a lot more than tears when I'm through."

Sam's glower increased epically, but he left the room, probably to go comfort his blushing bride.

One peaceful minute passed before Jacob came in. "Hey, you nearly ready?"

"Why are you the best man?" asked Leah, sighing mightily.

"Why are you the maid of honor?" questioned Jacob Black, who was dressed to the nines and looking very uncomfortable. He tugged at his necktie.

"I don't know. Something about Sam's puppy dog eyes…" Leah sighed again. "I have a plan, though."

Jacob looked wary of her plans. "Leah, the last plan you had…"

"You falling in the dumpster was not my fault!" insisted Leah. "If you'd listened, instead of just going—anyway, that's not the point. The point is that I have a plan to make Emily hate me."

"Why?" groaned Jacob, leaning against the doorframe. Leah told her heart to stop acting all funny and jumping. "Can't you just leave it alone?"

"No!" Leah spun to face him, glaring, her hands curled into fists. (She would never hit him. Well, yes, she would. But she didn't want to get blood on her dress.) "I want to make them sorry for every single thing they've put me through," she growled, and for a minute, she thought she might lose it and phase. But she fought down temptation. ('Think of the dress, Leah', she reminded herself.)

"But it's their wedding day!" said Jake miserably.

"You ruined Bella's." Leah's snippy remark brought up an uncomfortable and usually taboo memory. "Don't even pretend you didn't," she added, when he opened his mouth in protest. "You totally did. She sobbed like a baby for a while." (Not that Bella was ever NOT sobbing like a baby…although since becoming a vampire, Leah had noted Bella now only whined like one.) "So I've decided I'm going to make them regret this."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "You're an amazing anal freak, you know that?"

Leah wasn't impressed. "Mmhm," she agreed noncommittally, before flickering the last bit of glitter onto her eyelid. "Okay, let's go."

Jacob held out his arm. "C'mon."

Leah slid her arm through his and shot him an almost flirty glance from the corner of her eye. Jacob told his heart to stop jumping around. "Why do Emily and Sam want us to walk up the aisle arm in arm?" asked Jacob. What he really wanted to say was: "You look pretty damn sexy."

Leah snorted. "Dunno. Maybe that's how all weddings go?"

The music started up. "Ready?" asked Jacob. Leah shot him a venomous glare.

"Yesss." The venomous glare turned into a sly grin, and Leah and Jacob glided up the aisle. (A/N: I honestly have noooo idea how weddings work, so the best man and maid of honor are going up first.)

Although Jacob watched her closely, Leah pasted a big smile on her face throughout the wedding. She hardly moved, but when she did it snapped every guy's eyes back to her; her hair, her big eyes, her copper skin – everything looked perfectly desirable. Even Sam stole a few enchanted looks.

The wedding was drawing tears. Real butterflies – white, of course – flittered around everybody, but most especially elegant sprays of flowers and blossoms. Emily looked truly gorgeous, though Leah was amused to see her cousin self-consciously comparing the white to her face in a mirror. Sue sobbed openly as Emily gave a beaming grin to Sam at one point; even Billy looked sucked into the romance, sitting rigid on the edge of his ribbon-bedecked pew.

The priest spread out his hands. "And if anyone has any reason to believe these people should not be bound in eternal marriage, please say so now."

No sound except for Sue sobbing. Then: "I object." Leah's voice rang lightly over the congregation. Sue's sobbing pulled up short in a horrified breath. (That's right, mom. I'm more of a bitch then you reckoned!)

"What?" The priest turned to her in shock. "I…I mean…oh!"

Leah steamrolled over that. She stared out at her confused audience, avoiding Sam and Emily. "Their love is completely based off looks," she said, although she remembered not to dip into the imprinting business; out-of-town guests would have been very confused. "He saw her and he loved her. Well, big whoop! What about his other girlfriend? Also known as me? It's a superficial love, that's what it is. He doesn't care that he's crushed my heart, and she doesn't care she's betrayed my soul. All they want is each other! They didn't even fight for me!" she glared out at everybody; Emily pulled out a few sniffles of misery which Leah ignored. "Well, as far as I'm concerned…this maid of honor is out of here." She stalked over to Emily, shoving away Sam, who had jumped in front of her (what would that have done?) leaned close, and hissed a few vindictive words. "Just remember…tonight, when you're sweaty and hot from you're marriage night, and falling into a contented sleep – just remember that I was there first. I'm better at that. And Sam always, always, always, dreams of me."

Jacob blanched at her severity, but had to admit those were good parting words (werewolf hearing was at times a gift or a burden). Leah shoved her flowers at the shocked priest and, slowly, with a dignity and grace most girls didn't possess, she left the building.

After a pause, the priest said carefully, "I…now pronounce you husband and…wife?" The entire wedding was ruined.

.........................................................................

Jacob phased at about the same time Leah, already in her wolf form, was splashing through a stream. "You know it didn't do anything, right?"

"Yes it did." Leah smirked.

"No…they still got married."

"But I planted the first seeds of doubt." Leah still sounds self-satisfied, and Jacob sees her point. "I proved to every shape-shifter there that imprinting isn't some jolly, happy trip. Sam does dream about me every night, and Emily knows it. Now Emily also knows I got to Sam first. She will forever feel inadequate."

Jacob feels almost impressed. "You really are a witchy little brat!"

"I'm your witchy little brat, though," Leah yawns contentedly.

"Yep," agrees Jacob with a laugh. And then, "Wait. What? Mine?"

He can feel Leah's laughter and smug grin. "Mmhmm. Always yours. Even if you don't want me." And she phases back.

Jacob subconsciously wonders how she will find any clothes. A grin creases is huge muzzle; there are none for her, because she phased in her dress.

Jake heads for where he knows Leah is.


End file.
